


we're driving fast in my car

by orphan_account



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, F/M, Gen, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Weary of the soulmark that has haunted his life, Sebastian decides to get it covered up.Lewis is the tattoo artist. He just happens to also be Sebastian’s soulmate.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Kimi Räikkönen/Minttu Virtanen, Lewis Hamilton/Sebastian Vettel, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 105





	we're driving fast in my car

**Author's Note:**

> The abstract of this idea comes from a [free! fan fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7138304), it deviates quickly from said fan fic.  
> which in turn is inspired by a [prompt](https://66.media.tumblr.com/9c4f1a23b39f5ed1a614ae54bfad7841/tumblr_o8fh1kAGgr1s1rgmjo1_540.png)
> 
> This is a soulmates universe; I’ve tried to make it as self-explanatory within the text.  
> I tried to make the timeline accurate as to an actual season calendar, but I cannot explain away why Seb lives in London yet works in Milton Keynes. (my sense of geography is shot but my understanding of London is alright). 
> 
> It is fiction, I don’t believe anything stated in this fic is real (well apart from Kimi and Minttu being the most badass couple on the grid) 
> 
> Much thanks to the group chat for fielding my random questions half the time unaware they were for this.
> 
> EDIT: 28/01/21, a year later after i originally posted this. i realised that i really would never finish it and all promises as such were false. normally my policy on chaptered fics unfinished is just to delete them but multiple people have requested that this one be orphaned and not deleted. please feel free to check out my other works (toro), where i have ended up writing long fics i am proud of. the links to the fic this was based of is in here anyways so maybe you can go imagine how it would have ended up. thank you to everyone who read this, commented on this and kudos' it. it meant a lot. it means a lot. i am sorry i left it unfinished. take care of one another.

He’s mulled it over for a while, in the tube to and from work. Just another grey suit passing through the hues of the underground. He goes to Kimi’s because Kimi will have vodka, maybe words of wisdom. Minttu’s gin and tonic making skills are just a bonus for the journey.

Kimi barely lifts an eyebrow when Sebastian turns up at his door, at 6.30 pm on a very grey late summer London Tuesday evening. ‘Seb’s here everyone’, and it feels good the way the Finnish man’s kids cheer like his simple appearance is worth celebrating.

Minttu appears in the hallway with a ‘Hi Sebastian, is carbonara okay?’. At one point, his appearances at the Räikkönen household were just a monthly occurrence. Sebastian is not quite sure when they had turned into weekly things. Though he has no qualms about being able to drop in unexpectedly and be welcomed with cheers. 

He had met Kimi in the first year of university, a shock of blonde hair over dark sunglasses worth probably more than anything Sebastian had owned at that juncture in his life. They’d spent the next three years bonding over being the foreign kid, engineering and Formula One races. Hunched over books in the library, scheduling weekends around watching motorsport on tiny TV's or tinny radios.

Sebastian sits at the dinner table, looks at Robin and Rianna giggling away in their highchairs, all blonde curls and piercing blue eyes. Minttu’s sleeves are rolled up, her golden bracelets shift, letting the sparkle of her soulmate tattoo shine through. An imprint of a circle, one that Sebastian knows Kimi carries the identical of. He was there when the couple had met, at an ice hockey game. Minttu had dropped her glove, and Kimi had decided that then was the time to be a chivalrous gentleman for once in his life, picking the glove up and handing it back. Seb can still feel the warmth from just witnessing the moment, the way their wrists had glowed in the bright LED lights of the rink. Even years down the line Seb finds himself tracing the memory fondly. 

In the present, he’s halfway through a forkful of creamy pasta, watching Kimi extol a smile, something he hadn’t thought the Finnish man capable off until the kids had come along. 

‘Seb, you okay? Is the carbonara bad or something?’

‘Huh’, he realises he’s had the fork poised at his mouth, while he’s been frozen in thought. Minttu had asked him in a playful tone, but when he looks at her, he can see the concern in his friend’s eyes.

‘I think I want a tattoo’ 

Kimi and Minttu go silent, enough so that even the kids pause in their giggling. 

_Bwoah  
_

Rianna’s sharp giggle at her Dad’s grumblings breaks the silence. Kimi sends an eyebrow Sebastian’s way that says, ‘we will talk about this after dinner’. Which comes with Minttu’s eyebrow that says, ‘Gin and Tonics after dinner wahoo’. He likes that spending so much time with the Räikkönen’s over the years has made him so adept at the language of eyebrow reading. 

So, he continues through his carbonara, makes conversation, how summer break has stretched on and now he’s stuck in factory work instead of out at the Belgium Grand Prix. Milton Keynes in the last of Britain’s dying summer heat does not sound as exciting as the trees of Spa. Minttu gives him a pointed look. ‘And if you were back at work, you’d be complaining about that anyways.’ Sebastian has to acquiesce, it’s true, working life he guesses. You can never win.

An hour or so later, kids tucked up in bed with an Uncle Seb bedtime story, the three of them sit down on the sofa, G&T’s in hand. 

‘You want a tattoo, Sebastian?’ Kimi asks gruffly, Minttu picks up where her soulmate left off, ‘It doesn’t seem uh very, you?’ 

He lets himself rest his hand on the crook of his elbow, where all three of them know his soul mark lies hidden by his suit, the dark lines inked on his skin since birth. This brand, the only part of Sebastian he’s spent his whole life resentful for. Glad that it’s positioning on his arm, hidden in the crease of his elbow means that it can be covered easily. He feels cursed by this mark. This circle, with four points, marked like a compass. It feels more like an anchor than a compass, something weighing him down instead of guiding him. 

When Sebastian had mulled this over on the tube, he had thought that Kimi would have been the supportive one. It doesn’t hurt, the way the older man questions ‘You want to get your soul mark covered up?’ but it sits oddly with Sebastian, Kimi of all people should know why he wants to follow through with a cover-up. 

Wanting a soulmark cover-up is rare, the sort of idea thrown around during angsty teenage fits, not wanting your world to be dictated by this mark. The mark that will guide you to the person you are destined to be with, the mark that will guide you to the person who will love you essentially. Frustrated at the apathetic nature in which everyone around you contentedly drifted through life, moment to moment until they get that moment. The connection through a mark on their body that they had no-decision in the creation off. Waiting for a tiny mark, to turn gold, an indication that life was finally ‘complete’. 

Sebastian had stayed in the teen angst phase, all the playground banter mantra off ‘I will fall in love myself and not in the way the universe governs’ stuck with him. He’s an open person in general, but it still took till the third year of University and a very messy aftermath of a party for Kimi to find out what was hidden under the cuff on Sebastian’s arm. Sebastian sobbing in Kimi’s arms, drunk and distrustful of the concept of love. He’s reminded of that moment now, in the present. 

‘If I can find love Seb, surely it’s out there for you’. Kimi looks serious, Minttu’s hand intertwines with his. Perfect Soulmates, in sync. 

‘I’m not exactly young anymore Kimi’, the man in questions grunts. 

Sebastian leans forward, and touches the marks on Kimi and Minttu’s arms, gently, like the treasures that they are. 

‘Love wasn’t made for me and I think I’m okay with that now, I have love in different ways’ 

It makes the couple smile. Kimi rolls up his sleeves further, shows off his normal tattoos.

‘The guy that did these, has his own parlour here in London. It’s only been open a few months.’

Sebastian smiles because he knows that sentence it’s the closest thing to approval from the Finn. 

He leaves the Räikkönen’s slightly tipsy clutching a business card belonging to tattoo parlour owned by one Daniel Ricciardo. With a time for an appointment, scribbled on the back in Kimi’s distinctive handwriting and favoured ballpoint pen. Because apparently the Finn and Daniel go way back, enough that the tattooist doesn’t mind calls past ten thirty pm. 

*

It’s probably for the best, Sebastian thinks, as he pulls his jacket up and steps outside the station and into indecisive British air, that Kimi had made him book the appointment that night. Daniel had called just the next morning, to talk designs. The man on the phone had seemed friendly. Brash Australian accent and all its associated idioms, Sebastian has a feeling that the Aussie will be a big hand talker, he wonders if the surname connects the man to any Italian heritage which would also explain the openness of his rambles. But probably not the way the man opened the call with ‘Enchanté’. Which helped ease the nerves, the call makes him excited for the appointment, now the design is envisioned in his mind, soon to be physical on paper. Then etched forever into his skin. It doesn’t sound so scary anymore. A cover-up to something that’s caused him nothing but grief. 

Suddenly, it’s the day. Daniel had suggested a late afternoon appointment, flexible with Sebastian’s schedule. Sebastian follows Google Maps, which is telling him the parlour is the next right, down a lane. Camden is all bright colours; he feels like he sticks out with his giant iPhone and grey suit. The parlour looks upmarket compared to the rest of the street, a guy is spraying a graffiti mural on the side, he smiles at Sebastian. Sebastian’s frozen on the front step of the parlour though, suddenly ready to spring the half a mile back to the tube and disappear back to the safety of the Northern line. 

‘Aight mate, you must be Sebastian’, the graffiti man says, in the accent, Sebastian has gotten used to from the phone. 

‘The place won’t bite you know’ 

Sebastian turns, and manages a weak smile at Daniel, offers out a hand to shake. Daniel’s arms are sparingly tattooed, splattered in spray paint, alongside his dungarees, baby pink sweatshirt and chequered vans. How Kimi and Daniel are friends is a question Sebastian needs to ask when this whole ordeal is over. 

‘Head on inside, I’ll be in in a few. Time sort of escapes me when I’m in the zone you know’ The Australian beams out a smile that might burn Sebastian with how open it is, by the time Sebastian looks again, Daniel is turned around and back to his graffiti, head bopping to the music playing from a genuine boombox on the floor. Sebastian thinks he and Daniel might be able to get along as well. Even though his music method is struggling to connect his fancy Bluetooth headphones to his iPhone. 

Daniel’s back turned to him and lack of communication is what Sebastian takes as a sign, enough of a push to force him up the steps and into the parlour. It’s clean, minimalistic, but covered in the distinctive paint splatters that Sebastian’s already started to associate with the man outside. Written in bold black letters on the wall are the words **Stop Being Them** , the black paint had dripped as it was drying. Probably, judging from the aesthetic of the rest of the shop, this was done on purpose. Sebastian ponders the meaning of the words when a man appears from behind the desk humming along to a song that’s playing from the back room.

* * *

Lewis watches the hands of the clock drift closer and closer to Four pm, Dan is still outside spraying the mural, and his next client is meant to be here at Four pm.

Lewis had spent his whole life dreaming off being a tattooist, but on his dad’s wishes, did some other things first. ‘A proper job’ and the like. Lewis had no qualms, he’s seen the world, done cool things. Played his part through the Church.

Now he’s thirty-four, with two dogs, a reasonable London flat and training under the infamous Daniel Ricciardo’s wing to become a tattoo artist. It’s weird to have someone younger than you be your boss, but the Australian man is so easy going, maybe a little too easy-going, Lewis thinks, as the hands roll on to Four and Daniel still doesn’t appear. He might as well prep everything, impress Daniel, maybe be allowed to go from tattooing his own skin and silicone to someone else if he does more prep work. Concerted effort dedicating time more than he already is to prove his dedication to the job and in chasing his dream. 

The backroom heater is playing up, deciding to come on when it’s not needed. Making these groaning sounds that remind Lewis of secondary school days gone by. The good thing about Dan is he respects music, so the parlour has had a good sound system since day one. Which masks the groaning of the radiator. They normally respect client’s music choices, within reason, but since no one else is in Lewis puts on his and Daniel’s shared playlist and starts preparation. He cleans down the chair, and covers it in cling film anyways, sings along to the beats, voice low. He can carry a tune, unlike his boss. 

_You are the bestest, I will obey you._ He starts to shuffle Dan’s designs for his client. There’s three, all very minimalistic fine line stuff. Designs that Lewis knows Daniel is very bad at actually tattooing, the Australian favouring more classic bold work. But fine line work Lewis knows he is good at. He ignores the flip of excitement in his stomach, aware he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself. _I wanna lay on your stomach so bad and it gets a little quiet in this bachelor pad_. It’s clear to Lewis that the designs are cover-ups, though not sketched in enough to show Lewis what exactly they are covering up. _And I don’t really understand the thing we had I wanna try again but it would just be sad._ Lewis wonders what’s being covered up. He hears the little chime of the bell that signifies someone has walked into the parlour and waits for a line of the song. _you are the only one who’s ever let me be me_

There’s no tell-tell ‘Lewis what up’ that the Aussie man normally shouts, just silence, Gambino singing out in the background. It must be the client. Lewis walks into the reception area humming along to the music. The client is staring at the **Stop Being Them** on the walls. The man is unassumingly gorgeous. Lewis ideal everything, dressed in a sharp grey suit, with a Red Bull Racing logo on the side, Lewis lets his eyes drag up slowly as the customer turns to face him properly. Dirty blond hair and soft blue eyes stare at him, the client has a scruffy beard growing in, slightly lighter hair than on his head. Lewis is struck by the notion to reach out and graze his hand along the beard, feel if it as soft as he thinks it is. Wants to turn the clients face and look into his eyes and see if they are the exact shade of blue as he thinks they are, or if they have green mixed in. The world might as well have stopped and it just is him and this stranger, everything else has faded away but this burning desire to reach out and touch the artwork of a man in front of him. Except he’s rooted to the ground. Stuck still by a complete head heart malfunction. 

That’s when Lewis feels it, on his chest, a burning sensation. Right where he knows his soul mark is imprinted on his skin. The sensation starts where Lewis knows the middle of the compass is and spreads slowly out to all four points. It crosses his mind, maybe the mark is why he is so desperate to touch the man in front of him. He wonders where the mark lies on the other man if it matches his own perfectly, will it turn gold when he grazes against it, if it is a match at all. That’s when the seed of doubt starts to plant itself, maybe he’s just having heart problems, and it’s not soul mark burning but a genuine health issue. Because the man in front of him seems unaffected. Unbothered, face neutral. Just a slight trace of confusion clouding his pretty eyes. 

‘I have an appointment, Daniel said to come in.’ 

Lewis hears the chime of his phone. The man has an accent, European, foreign, one he can’t place quite yet.

‘Oh yeah man, cool take a seat. I’m just prepping stuff. I'll grab your designs in a second so you can go through them with Dan’

Lewis's feet scramble him back into the main room, he checks his phone. 

> **Danny Ric:** I gotta jet bro, but look, trust you enough for your first unsupervised tattoo. Be good to Sebastian. Otherwise, Kimi may kill me. 

Lewis might scream. It’s everything he wanted, has worked so hard for, dreamt about since he was a kid and had first seen David Beckham kick a ball around, covered in tattoos that weren’t just a soul mark. All these years of toil impressing his father and then impressing Daniel. And now he gets to finally tattoo someone, unsupervised. His soulmark burns as he picks up the stencils Dan has sketched out and tries not to let his hands shake too much. And has a name, for the man that’s made his heart flip a thousand times in the span of approximately two minutes.

‘Okay Sebastian, look, Daniel has had to leave.’ Lewis is proud that his voice doesn’t waver. ‘But he’s left you in my capable hands’ he continues as he steps back into the main room. 

Sebastian is still there, all perfect. Lewis knows he is no slouch, he’s worked hard for his body, spent hours in the gym, picked out perfect tattoos to compliment the compass inking that is his soulmark. But compared to Sebastian in front of him, he feels like he’s the most boring looking man on the planet. 

‘Daniel left?’

The blond man looks doubtful, turns to look out the door. Like he can peer through the brick wall at where he knows Daniel was moments before. 

‘Well his designs for you are here, so we can go through them together, even if you don’t want to follow through on the actual tattooing part right now’ 

Sebastian nods, he seems far away lost in thought. 

Lewis worries for a second but then watches the other man come down and smile at him.

‘Okay’

They head into the main section, there’s a drawing table set up, covered in Dan’s paint splatters and old tattoo ideas. **Stop Being Them** is sharpied in a few different fonts onto the wooden board.

Lewis lays the three designs out.

‘Could you show me where you want the tattoo’ 

Sebastian blushes a little but shrugs out of his suit jacket, he flops it over the sofa behind them. 

Lewis watches with wide eyes as Sebastian goes to roll up the sleeves of his pressed white shirt that looks slightly baggier than what Lewis imagines the other man would normally wear. So much creamy skin dusted in light blond hair. And then his heart falls as a black inking is exposed. A black inking Lewis knows he carries the identical too on his chest. 

Of course, with so many people in the world, soul marks stopped being entirely individual a long time ago, the bond is not proved truly until the marks glow golden. But Lewis can feel the way his heart is trying to escape his chest, if that’s not an indication that this mark on Sebastian skin is the match to his own, then what else is. He’s so afraid to touch and find out. 

Instead, he watches as Sebastian taps his hands, with neatly manicured nails, on to the compass in the crook of his elbow.

‘Had to wear a baggy shirt, but if you need me to take it off that’s okay, but I’d like you to cover up here’ 

Lewis forces a smile. His heart is at the bottom of his stomach. Sebastian wants to cover up the mark that bonds them together. Wants to hide proof of the fact that they are destined to each other. It’s a sucker punch, a double hit, the universe saying here’s your soulmate but by the way. He doesn’t want you. Lewis takes a deep breath and hopes Sebastian doesn’t notice. 

It’s okay, he thinks, he’s survived worse. Come back from low points and been okay. Sure, having a soul mate that doesn’t want you is rough. But at that moment, Lewis knows that he will cover Sebastian’s soul mark, and let the world continue. If that’s what his soul mate wants, then Lewis can live with that. He just wants to see Sebastian smile and be happy. He resists every part of his body that is screaming for him to reach forward and touch the mark. To prove their connection in a golden burn. 

The song has changed, onto one of Daniel’s weird indie efforts, a girl sings _who was I to judge your brand of loneliness?_ Sebastian looks at the three designs spread across the drawing board. Lewis watches his soulmate's eyes scan them, settle upon the middle drawing. An intricate yet simple geometric design. That will weave the compass soul mark in yet cover it up near completely. _Who was I to think I was someone above desire?_

Lewis knows Sebastian has made his choice. That Sebastian had made his mind up long before he sat down in the chair he sits in now. Dangled in front of Lewis, like the apple in front of Eve. Forbidden fruit feels so cliché, but Lewis knows he will resist the bite as much as he savours the desire of the taste. 

‘This one feels right for me’ 

The accent, its German, Lewis realises. Funny the twists of fate that have this man from countries away be the other half of his soul. And then so cruelly deny him. Lewis pulls his gloves on and damps down the feeling, brings up the idea of doing this to make his soulmate happy. Sebastian sits in the chair, rolls his sleeve up a little further. 

‘Is this far enough? Or am I going to have to take the shirt off’ 

Lewis feels the blush rise to his face, ‘No no, it’s okay’. He makes sure his next actions are done with care and attention. Sprays some water, gently scrapes a razor over the arm, dries the spot gently with a towel and rolls away on his chair to get the design. The flimsy paper is loose and floppy in his hands, folding delicately over Sebastian’s arm. 

There’s just a barrier of latex and paper, separating them from a golden connection. Lewis for a split second, as he sprays the solution down, wonders if Daniel had known that this would happen. If Daniel had an inkling of the connection between Sebastian and him, if the Australian thought that he would commit to his emotions, reveal the truth to Sebastian or hide like the coward he is. He peels the tracing paper off slowly, and it feels like peeling off a layer of his own heart. 

The compass is masked up perfectly by the guidelines of the geometric pattern, there blue more colourful than the dull soul mark. 

‘Is the placement okay?’ 

‘Perfect’ Sebastian’s smile is blinding.

‘Are you okay with me doing it? Or still wanna wait for Daniel?’, it’s a last-ditch attempt at an out, Lewis knows it as the words leave his mouth. 

Sebastian moves his other arm to rest on Lewis's forearm. Looks Lewis right in the eye. 

‘I think I’m good with you if that’s okay’ 

Lewis feels himself blink. His first unsupervised tattoo, and on his soulmate no less. Say anything, he thinks. Tell him, he thinks. Don’t follow through with this stupidity. 

‘You okay with the music’ Is what he says instead, as he steps away to get the ink pots ready.

The playlist is on shuffle, Ariana is in the background, still Daniel’s music then. 

_I can be needy, so hard to please me_

‘Is no music okay? I’d rather talk’

_I know it feels good to be needed_

Lewis freezes, mid ink preparation. Sebastian wants to talk, he has to press his gloved hands, against the skin of his soulmate. Cover up the mark that binds them together. Never tell of the love that should thrum between them. And do it while finding out things about Sebastian, his soulmate, his designated destiny. This is not how the meeting was meant to go, why couldn’t he have something simple like a meeting at a coffee shop. 

‘Sure, thing man. All black ink right?’

Lewis's hands don’t shake, in the black latex gloves. Sebastian says ‘Yeah’. He wiggles the mouse, wakes up the Mac, pauses Spotify with a click. It’s silent save the chug of the radiator. He picks up the inkpots, and his hands are steady. Walks over to the chair, pulls his little trolley over. Watches the blond man get into a comfortable position, the pull of the blue tracing lines over the black of the soul mark. Lewis tentatively pushes his foot on the peddle of the gun, just a test.

It vibrates in his hand. 

‘Tell me if it’s too much and we can take a break whenever you want. You’re the last client of the day so no rush’ 

Lewis dips the needle in the ink and simultaneously the compass on his chest burns. Just for a short brief second. Ending the moment, he pulls the needle out of his pot. Almost like it had never been burning in the first place. Lewis knows he puts a lot of hard work and effort into things, is dedicated, probably to a fault. But Daniel has trusted him, with his friend and even if Daniel didn’t know Sebastian was Lewis’ soul mate. Lewis still feels like he owes it to everyone involved to make this the best tattoo of his career. 

He pushes his foot down fully on the footswitch. Smiles at the blue eyes and inks the first line. 

Sebastian’s voice feels like coming home, his accent is present but not strong in the way Daniel’s is, just a soft German lilt to certain words. Lewis is wrapping his hands around the skin, humming and nodding when he needs too, concentrating on putting his heart and soul into the artwork. Finds himself wanting to soak up every single piece of information Sebastian gives him, treasure them forever in his mind. His soul mate works for Red Bull Racing, an engineer. Lewis only travel experience is gap years and holidays with his brother to Monaco. But now Sebastian is regaling him with a story of a low budget flight and how shitty Monaco is when you’re a broke F1 lackey. 

The thing is the cover-up isn’t even that big of a project. It’s going to be an hour tops. And Lewis has already done most of the outer line work. Just the more complicated inner pieces to go. 

‘Still feel okay?’ He interrupts Sebastian’s spiel about plane food. 

‘Oh yeah, I’m great thank you. The pain’s not much’ 

And then he tells a story about changing a tyre during a pit stop and falling on his ass on live television. 

Lewis has to take his foot off the pedal cause he’s laughing so hard. 

Sebastian has crinkles in his eyes when he smiles. Lewis finds they make the man look even softer. 

If anything, he thinks as he wipes the tears from his eyes, he and Sebastian could be friends maybe. The German could remain none the wiser, and Lewis finds he would be content with the burden of friendship. 

The tattoo doesn’t take much longer after that. At one point he has to dip down close to get the best angle on a few intricate lines, he’s careful not to touch the mark with any of his own bare skin. Terrified that even though the mark is nearly all covered up, he might still trigger the reaction. Whoever Sebastian falls in love with will be a lucky person, Lewis finds himself pushing that energy into the final lines, hopes that God will watch over Sebastian and give him a good love, even if it can’t be Lewis’. He tries not to think of the fact its God that gave them these marks in the first place. After all, God has a plan for all of them, Lewis knows he is blessed just to get to know Sebastian, even for these few short hours they get to spend together. 

He takes his foot off for the final time. Lay’s the tattoo gun down gently on his trolley, grabs a towel to wipe the tattoo down. Steps back and admires his work. 

‘You good?’

Sebastian is looking down at the tattoo, eyes crinkled and a smile cleaving his face. 

‘It’s perfect’

Lewis's heart flips over in his chest. It does look amazing, slightly red and sore, the plasma comes up easily though. He has to continue with the professional nature, wipes Sebastian’s arm down, asks

‘Am I alright to take some pictures for my portfolio before I wrap it?’ 

Sebastian nods, too busy staring at his arm. Lewis pulls an LED light over, sets up the space so it fits in with his Instagram aesthetic. Shoots a couple of photos on his phone, tilts Sebastian’s arm for the angle, keeps the gloves on just in case. 

‘Do you have an Instagram handle?’ he asks, like a dumbass. 

Sebastian looks at him like he’s an alien. 

‘I’ll take that as a no’ and Sebastian gives a tiny chuckle. 

‘Am I alright to post this online though’ 

‘Sure, go ahead’ 

Lewis pockets his phone and goes to grab the cling film. He starts to wrap Sebastian’s arm up gently. ‘Okay well, I need you to leave this wrap on for two or so hours. Then as soon as you take it off, rinse it with water’ 

He grabs some of Daniel’s favourite tattoo cream. The stuff they normally charge a hefty fee for, but he gives it to Sebastian. He feels he must care for his soul mate even if his soul mate is unaware of the connection. ‘You need to apply this cream as instructed on the back. And when it starts to peel do not scratch it okay. If you feel anything goes wrong or is looking too inflamed, just give Dan a call okay’ 

Lewis takes his gloves off, puts them down on the trolley, moves some of his gear out of the way just so he has something to do with his hands. Sebastian is slowly getting up from the chair, still in that first tattoo stupor. It’s a miracle he makes it over to the front counter without hitting anything, so distracted the blond man is by his tattoo. 

‘Stings a little still, but it’s amazing. Just perfect. Thank you’ 

Lewis smiles, pulls up the payment system on the main Mac. 

Sebastian pushes a shiny American Express into the card machine. Taps his pin in deftly. That’s when the tape holding the cling film comes unstuck. Without thinking, Lewis goes to fix it, brushes his hand across the tattoo still mostly covered in the plastic wrap. A jolt goes up his finger, through his arm and straight to his mark. He feels short of breath and lightheaded suddenly. He wonders if Sebastian feels the same. But he looks at the German man, and he looks the same. A warm smile and blue eyes. 

Lewis takes a snapshot in his mind, something to last him for eternity. 

‘Thanks again, have a good evening. Say thanks to Daniel, he left me in capable hands’ Sebastian nods at Lewis and turns on his heel and out of the parlour.

Lewis watches through the door as his soul mate turns right and disappears back into Camden’s chaos. He feels a weight lift, but the butterflies in his stomach still flutter away. When Sebastian is gone for sure, he closes the shop front, turns the Mac off and the lights. In silence. Just him, the radiator hum and his heart trying to beat out of his chest. 

Once everything is closed correctly, Lewis steps into the back room. Peels his shirt off and looks in the big mirror. 

The compass that is his soul mark, is glowing golden. It’s nearly as beautiful as the tattoo he has just given his soul mate. His soul mate, Sebastian. He says the German man’s name over and over, watches his lips in the reflection sound out the syllables. 

His soulmate. Sebastian. 

* * *

The entire tube journey home, he’s smiling. It feels like he’s going to crack out his entire body. Skin stretched over his mouth. He feels exhausted, the sort of tired loopy you achieve after too long without a break. Rewarding yourself and crashing of the bliss of self-care. The northern line can’t bring him down now. It’s clunking through King’s Cross, he’s not even fearful of the change at Bank or the oppressive doomsday vibes of the Central line outside 9 to 5 hours. There the janky motion of the tube, and in the flash of the flickering shitty central line lights, he’s staring his arm as if he can see through the suit jacket and onto the delicate lines inked there. 

It had been nerve-wracking, the process of going to the parlour. When it was all just something between him and the Räikkönen’s it had felt easy, slightly fake like there would be no follow-through even though his mind was already made up. 

Sebastian feels like he had sort of calmed down when he had met Daniel outside. But then when he’d entered and seen the man behind the counter, the nerves that shot through him were odd. Not the same as before, not boarding on anxiety nerves, but fluttery. Stretching across his chest. Like something was pulling him towards the man across the counter. It had settled into him though, through the tattoo and the mindless chatter. Even when the nerves had disappeared, this feeling hadn’t. 

His flat is dark, Friday night he’d normally be down the pub with workmates or Kimi and stumble in at eleven or twelve. Instead, he’d gone for the tattoo, and it’s odd to exist in his apartment at a humble ten pm. The hallway is silent. Sebastian turns into his kitchen and nearly shits himself.

‘Kimi you know where the lights are’ 

Kimi is too busy laughing to reply. Sebastian tells himself for the thousandth time that he needs new friends. 

‘Your face, honestly Sebastian. How many times have you fallen for that one now?’ 

Kimi’s laugh is spiteful in the way that Sebastian knows means friendship. He has fallen for the Kimi in the dark trick one too many times.

‘Let me see it then’ Kimi asks, and Sebastian gives in. 

Sheds his jacket off careful not to jar the clingfilm too much. The tape is already delicate from where the tattooist had replaced it. His shirt comes off next, he’s more comfortable being shirtless around Kimi. Afterall Kimi has seen him naked in worse states. 

‘I have to take the cling film off in about forty-five minutes, the guy said’ and Sebastian feels Kimi look up at him. 

‘The guy?’

Suddenly Sebastian feels unsure of himself, for the first time since the ink is gone on the anxiety is creeping back into him, full force. 

‘Yeah. Uh. Daniel was out spray painting so when I went in another guy was there and did the tattoo?’

The Finn utters a _bwoah_ and starts to peel the cling-film off.

‘Kimi that’s not meant to be off for another forty minutes’ 

But the cling film lies on the floor, Kimi’s hands are pale against the dark lines of the tattoo. His friend has never been the most caring physically of people, but he’s holding Sebastian’s arm like it’s as delicate as one of his children. 

‘Let me get something to wipe the plasma off’ 

Sebastian’s starting to freak out now, Kimi is not this kind. Ever. Not in all the years of friendship. His friend’s hands are so steady wiping the tattoo down. Then Kimi’s hands move away, and Sebastian feels like the world is about to drop out from underneath him. The Finn offers a reassuring smile, one that doesn’t quite match the look in his eyes. 

‘It’s nice Seb. Very well done. Suits you.’

Sebastian wraps the cling film back around his arm, less tender than the tattooist and Kimi had done it. 

‘Lewis did a great job, didn’t realise Dan trusted him that much’ 

‘Lewis?’ Sebastian asks, confused. 

It’s rare now, through the years in friendship, to get two _bwoahs_ in one sitting from Kimi. 

_Bwoah_

‘You let a guy, tattoo you and didn’t get his name. Sebastian. Sometimes, you are the dumbest guy alive’ 

Kimi leaves him with a friendly slap to the head and two kisses to each cheek. 

‘ääliö’ Kimi says, not unkindly. He barks out a laugh as the door slams. 

Sebastian should choose new friends. He sits down at the kitchen table, in the seat Kimi had occupied just moments before. It’s bedtime really, but Sebastian feels like he might jitter out of his mind with anxiety. 

Everything feels a little bit more solid. Sunk into the kitchen chair. 

A name, Lewis. It suits the tattooist. Seb wonders why that was never brought up. It had just seemed natural like they had clicked. Names hadn’t even sprung to his mind when Lewis had already known his. 

He gets up, makes a cup of honey tea, and heads to bed. Writes the throbbing of his arm off as normal tattoo pain. The clingfilm peels of gently in the bathroom. 

In the stark bright lights of his bathroom he thinks it’s incredible, the artistry that’s gone into the piece that now sits on his arm, laments the fact that its destined to be hidden under shirts and ugly Red Bull branded jackets. 

And when Seb finally falls into bed he feels like his insides are trying to push one another apart, like magnets repelling one another inside of his chest. 

His dreams are of brown eyes and tanned skin. 

* * *

Lewis finds that the more time passes between Sebastian’s exit from the tattoo parlour and the current moment. The more this strange ache starts to settle into his bones. Makes things feel duller like there’s a bubble coming over his world and he’s trapped inside. Unable to get out, bouncing off the walls of his own imprisonment. 

He knows why this is logically. But the actual admission is hard.

Seems silly to say, ‘Oh, by the way, my soul mate asked me to tattoo over his soulmark, so I didn’t tell him we were soul mates I just tattooed over it. But you know, it must be what God wants.’ It feels like a cheat, to blame God. Even though God had given them all the marks in the first place. Lewis finds he’s looping in this circle of self-pity as much as his body is isolating him from the world. God wouldn’t want him to suffer, he thinks as he sits at Sunday Service. Watches projections of bible verses he feels like he knows inside out flash behind the Vicar. Glimpses at words that should soothe him but are failing in his time of need in a way they haven’t failed before. It’s a mood that doesn’t suit him, so he doesn’t let it. Shakes it out of his bones, and stops the mindset before it fully sets in. 

He heads to the parlour Monday Morning fully renewed, with a seedling of an idea forming in his mind, ready and willing to be nurtured. 

‘Morning Lew. How did the tattoo go?’ Daniel asks, clearly desperate for the gossip like a mum on the school playground. 

‘Can I paint something on the wall?’ Is Lewis answer. 

‘One condition’ Dan replies, Lewis can practically hear the Aussie’s smile in his voice. 

‘You tell me how the tattoo went’, totally a mum on the school playground then, Lewis laughs to himself. 

It’s a fair deal, Lewis finds out halfway through mixing the paint that talking about Sebastian eases the weird muffling that’s overcome his senses. He’s halfway through the first **Still** when he tells Dan the kicker. 

‘It was my soulmark on his arm. We were. Are. Soulmates’ 

Lewis finds his hands grabbing a cloth to wipe some of the silver paint that’s dripping from the letters. Not a distraction from looking at Dan’s face at all.

‘Knew It’ 

That’s enough to get Lewis to whip his head around.

‘You knew we were soulmates?’ 

Dan laughs, that skipping one when he’s aware of how cheeky he’s being.

‘Mate you didn’t think I’d drop out of a tattoo last minute to graffiti. Or let you do your first tattoo totally unsupervised?’ 

Dan’s his right hand through his hair, the golden 3 that’s inked on his ring finger sparkles like Dan’s soulmate knows they are talking about the concept. 

‘Kimi and I had a hunch. Jeepers we’d thought it would bring you guys together. Now I’m gonna have iceman breathing down my neck’ Dan shivers. It makes Lewis laugh, at least Dan isn’t mad at his stupidity.

‘I get why you didn’t tell him at least. Finish your painting you loser I’m gonna go call Max and tell him why when he gets back, I might be six feet under’ 

Lewis laughs, moves from his hunched-up position and pulls Dan into a warm hug. ‘The first appointment is at 10.30, I’ll get you set up for then. No phone sex with Max again, I do not have any earplugs or headphones on me’. 

Dan just finger guns and waltzes into the backroom, Lewis starts on the next word and can hear the Aussie yell ‘Gi Gi’ down the phone. Soulmates are strange things. He thinks, as his hand goes fills in the **R** he’s stencilled. Dan had been gifted pit passes to a Formula One race a few years ago, had walked past hotshot Max Verstappen while meandering down to spy on the Ferrari garage, his dream team. This being Dan, he’d ‘accidentally’ bumped into Max, and their hands had grazed. No one had paid any mind to it, especially not Dan, so distracted by seeing the glorious Ferrari garage. Until Dan had a Red Bull press agent pull him aside and tell him Max had requested to see him. And realised the 3 on his finger was glowing.

The ache softens in Lewis's heart as he recalls the text’s he had got from his friend. How he’d found his soulmate on the tarmac of Hungary. Lewis had dealt with the tearful calls, of how Max was only 18 and the way the guilt was eating Dan away. That they would both have golden 3’s on their ring fingers, but the age thing terrified Dan. His hand loops through the **E** as he wonders if Sebastian would know Max, he works for Red Bull. The German had never said which driver he was doing a pitstop for in his story. Lewis laughs thinking about the tale again, the way Sebastian had told it with such humour in his voice, laughed and used his other arm to explain how big the bruise on his ass was. Funny how his and Daniel’s worlds have been brought together by a sport that Lewis doesn’t care too much for. 

Wiping the excess paint away and standing back to look at the word’s he’s painted. 

Just underneath Dan’s statement bold **STOP BEING THEM** , in silver paint and looser font, **STILL WE RISE** , now sits on the wall,Lewis is happy with the mantra he’d thought of yesterday in church. 

‘Looks good. Max says you’re an idiot’ Dan says from where he’s leaning on the door jamb, all soft sweater, fond eyes and curly hair

‘I gave him some of the expensive cream’

Dan looks at him with what in anyone else would be malice. 

‘For free’

Dan’s laugh echoes around him in place of the ache that had resided in Lewis's chest, 6 words sit on a wall watching him, as he sets up for the first appointment of the day. 

A fool really, for not thinking that Dan and his soulmate halfway across the continent, would be teaming up with a Finnish man he doesn’t know, to plot the events that follow. 

* * *

Sebastian is slightly unnerved by the presence of the Räikkönen family on this plane from Heathrow out to Italy, and by slightly unnerved he means fully. What bizarre sway Kimi has pulled to get them on the same flight as half of the Red Bull crew. In first-class. While he slums it in economy. Sebastian is stock-still in the aisle, looking at his best friend’s family sat in their row. What has Kimi bribed Robin and Rianna with that they are sat so perfectly still? With cute headphones on and their little decorative scooter bags tucked away in the hold, neither of them yelling ‘Seb’ upon seeing him. Minttu gives him an impassive eyebrow quirk and someone behind him jostles him out of the staring and into walking down the aisle again. Kimi doesn’t even look at him beyond the sunglasses. Sebastian hates being reminded that Kimi’s nickname was Iceman for a reason, and how he seems to have found a soulmate that could be Icewoman just as easily and passed those genes onto their kids.

The Ice family proves a good enough distraction that Sebastian misses Daniel hiding a snigger from the row next to the Räikkönen’s. And distracts Sebastian from seeing Lewis next to Dan, the tattoo artist already sleep mask on and headphones in.

Seb takes his seat in Economy and blames the weird way his body feels on his usual pre-flight nerves. Italy’s only a two-hour flight from Heathrow, and the flight attendants are already halfway through there spiel as the plane taxes down the runway.

Seb slides his earplugs in, settles down into his seat and cracks open the spine on his book. The cities and towns of England soon unfold into fields, then cliffs and then the sea. The rough paper of his book better company and a better distraction than the stale air of the plane and the thought of flying thousands of metres high in the air. A shudder goes through him as he thinks about the mechanics that ended up doing the zero-gravity pit stop, grateful it wasn’t him chosen for that job.

*

Kimi finds himself quite pleased with the turn of events. The distraction had worked, he’s gonna reward the kids (and himself) with ice cream when they land, the expensive tourist ice cream. And then Minttu. Oh, the thing’s that he will reward Minttu with and the way she will reward him, his soulmate is a delight. He takes the sunglasses off after take-off, Minttu is engaged in pleasant conversation with Daniel, across the aisle there two voices murmur at each other, quiet enough to not disturb passengers around them. The tattoo artist is Kimi’s most unlikely friend, they are at counterpoints with each other. But Daniel’s work is good, and his ideas are even better, not just the ones inked into Kimi’s skin. 

Daniel had called, a week ago. To say that things had so obviously backfired, and Lewis had resolutely made his mind up that Sebastian did not want him as a soul mate, and ergo did not even want to show Sebastian their connection. For fear of rejection or because Lewis was being what the Aussie so politely put as ‘A daft cunt afraid of his own happiness’. Kimi doesn’t know much about Lewis, but from the times he’s met the man at the studio, he knows Lewis is a good guy. Daniel obviously thinks Lewis needs to give himself a break. So, Daniel had pulled strings, by virtue of having a Soulmate who happens to be in the same line of work give or take as Lewis’ soulmate. And here they were, flying first-class out to Monza courtesy of one Max Verstappen. 

Kimi presumes Daniel must be a good babysitter, he seems very friendly, and Kimi knows that the Australian has a niece and nephew back in his home country that he misses dearly. Robin and Rianna are behaving so well anyways, Daniels influence can’t corrupt them any more than they must be already corrupted by having him as their father. 

Now he’s had the thought, of how good Dan would be babysitting, Kimi finds his brain ticking over. Maybe he can speed up the rewarding Minttu and tick off a little bucket list goal. He smiles at her over the top of his kid’s heads, gets up from his window seat and slides a twenty into Daniel’s palm in the process. The tip-tap of Minttu’s travel heels on the aisle behind him is like music to his ears, a beautiful orchestra and he’s about to let the crescendo hit in a tiny aeroplane toilet cubicle.

When Kimi makes it back to his seat, wry smile and feeling slightly wrung out. He doesn’t regret anything, even when his sweet blue-eyed children are saying ‘cash money bitches’ as the planes heads for its descent. Daniel’s ever-present beaming smile is accompanying big puppy dog eyes, guilty Australians are not a problem to Kimi, especially not when he can still feel sting of the scratches Minttu has left up his sides. 

Lewis wakes up just before landing, pulls his headphones off and mutters a few words to his seatmate. ‘Luckily for you Lewis, seatbelts are mandatory right now. Wouldn’t want you to go to the toilet anyways not after what those two have been up too’. Lewis listens to Dan’s words, bleary-eyed before realising exactly what his boss means. The Räikkönen’s are back to a picture of innocence. Borderline Stepford smiling innocence. But there’s an unmistakable ruddiness to Kimi’s cheeks. Lewis can sort of see why Kimi and Dan are friends. 

Getting off the plane is easier. They are out pretty quickly since they are at the front of the plane, oh the luxury of being in first class. Now comes the art of avoiding Sebastian while waiting for luggage. And also, apparently coping with a thirty-year-old who has promptly landed on Italian soil and realised he is soon to be reunited with his soulmate. Kimi’s little mile-high high is disappearing quickly as Dan rocks on his feet, bouncing out of skin with excitement. His wife is ever the godsend. 

‘Lewis darling go take Daniel to arrivals before he bounces out of his shoes. Grab a coffee for yourself, and we will collect your suitcases’ Her ponytail is back to being perfect, Kimi notes, pleased that his attempts to destroy it are foiled by the expensive hairspray he kindly buys for her every month. And then she gives him an eyebrow that says go get a baggage trolley. So, he does. This means that by the time Sebastian meanders into the luggage area, it’s back to the Raikkonen’s playing innocent again. The kids are rolling back and forth on their hand luggage suitcases, Kimi’s holding Minttu’s hand lightly, and they both nod at Sebastian who still seems perplexed by their presence. 

There saved from explanations by the luggage carousel springing to life, popping out bags slowly. Everything is lining up perfectly, considering all their luggage comes out first, spinning round to them. Minttu seems so pleased as she dictates Kimi to put everyone’s suitcases onto the trolley. Kimi’s so distracted by being the lackey that he doesn’t even realise Sebastian has been roped into a conversation by some of the Red Bull Lads. 

They waltz through into arrivals, spotting Dan and Lewis clutching coffee cups, which makes Kimi scoff, the Australian probably needs no more caffeine, already hyped up just by the pull of his soulmate. At least it might pep the Brit up from whatever funk he appears to be in. 

They walk out of the airport like a well-organised group, out into the warm Italian sun. Max has sent a minivan to collect all of them, and the kids are delighted by all its bright lights and leather chairs. Kimi smiles at his soulmate. They may be here to get his best friend and his soulmate together, but he’s going to milk the situation for as long as possible. The minivan rumbles softly underneath them as the driver pulls out of the airport and they hit the roads of Italy. 

* * *

Lewis is grateful that Daniel has decided to take him on a trip to Italy with him, they’ve both been working hard in the parlour to get it established as a reputable establishment. Daniel had enough clients from guest tattoo spots and his Instagram followers (plus tattooing a few big-name celebrities) that they already had a good following. It’s such a blessing for Lewis to be under Daniel’s tutorage, to be considered a friend outside of the store enough to be offered a trip to Italy, Lewis can be nothing but grateful for the opportunities his life has presented him with. 

Lewis knows his friend prides himself on making sure that the parlour is distinctly his. Separate from the money or the luxury he could take if he just chose to be ‘soulmate of millionaire racing car driver Max Verstappen’. Lewis knows how hard it is for Daniel and Max to keep their relationship undercover. How even though they are soulmates, with a fate that has destined them to be together. Max fears that the world is not ready yet for a driver to be anything but heteronormative, and even if they were, Lewis knows Daniel is still hung up on the age difference. He hates it for his friends, how they have to keep their love so hidden away. How Dan hurts when tabloids spread pictures of his soulmate with models in Monaco. Even though they both know Dan is the one Max calls every night, that the models are nothing but arm candy. He’s reminded of the layers in the meaning of **Stop Being Them**. Who it’s a fuck you too, of the delicate writing of _Shine On_ that’s inked on Dan’s arm. 

Dan’s jittering has stopped now they are in the car, it relaxes Lewis as well. He’d spent half the flight trying to block out the thoughts of running into Sebastian because of the whole Red Bull thing. He’s back to being not sure how he would cope with that. His body had felt funny on the flight too, and not in the normal pressure of the changing air. That pull again, that hard aching pull that sits and weighs him down. Maybe it was because he was leaving England, getting further away from his soulmate, and the universe had yet to catch up that they were not destined as it thought they were. Maybe it will all balance out when Sebastian comes over, that’s if, he’s coming over for the Grand Prix. The minivan pulls to a stop. He doesn’t know Kimi but everything he’s ever heard about the man is true. Roscoe and Coco are safely at his brother's while he’s on this impromptu holiday, but Lewis misses them, and he’s gunning to gain Kimi’s trust so he can take care of Robin and Rianna. He loves kids. He wonders if Sebastian loves kids too. Not that it matters.

It’s sickly sweet the way Max and Daniel reunite. A bro-hug just outside the hotel that surely anyone who walks by could tell is more than a bro-hug. Even Kimi seems to twitch a smile at the reuniting of the soulmates. 

He’s met Max plenty of times that the hug Max gives him is welcomed. The 3 on his finger is glowing. Radiant and resplendent in the Italian sun. Reunited with its identical match. He wants to tell Max how happy he is to see him again, how boring it’s been listening to Dan whine and moan about time zones and getting cockblocked by Horner. Instead, Max looks at him, all dimpled cheeks, mischievous smile and raspy lisp. ‘Heard your soulmate is on my side of the garage’. Max doesn’t sound mad, and there is barely any height difference between them. But Lewis wants to shrink down. He’s well into his thirties yet there’s a part of him that struggles with someone younger telling him off. Like his younger boss, or his younger boss’s younger boyfriend. 

Max walks away to greet the Räikkönen’s and leave an unsure Lewis stumbling in his wake. 

Everyone is walking past him and into the hotel, he’s certain he’s rooted to the ground. It’s not a dead cert there’s a scheme underfoot, but Daniel and Max are mischievous enough that Lewis knows there is a scheme unfolding. It scares him, how now there are more than Daniel and Max involved in whatever this is. 

He has to put a stop to it. If Sebastian doesn’t want a soulmate, then Sebastian will remain soulmate-less. It’s for the best. Lewis thinks. He does that sort of half jog into the hotel to catch up with his scheming friends.

Still we rise, a voice in his brain sounds out, like the ringing of the church bells, a call to worship, to get better. 

**Still we rise**.

**Author's Note:**

> The internet tells me tylsämielinen is Finnish for idiot. I could be using the incorrect term.  
> Edit: extremesoft (a finn) tells me ääliö is a better term. 
> 
> These are the songs that are playing in the tattoo parlour  
> [so fly - childish gambino](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tMqPQZ6JcI)  
> [essentially, japanese breakfast ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMgOig-lqqM)  
> [needy, ariana grande](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Km__cJEJ3JI)  
> the title and chapter titles are from [fast in my car, paramore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaiOTGEnuJk) my brain’s designated twenty nineteen season seb/lewis song
> 
> This is my labour of love; I intend on it being three chapters* This is a rare time I am uploading something not fully completed. I would love feedback, come talk to me on [tumblr](https://tororuhroh.tumblr.com/) about this. Yell in the comments etc. You will probably help dictate where this goes, there’s only a skeleton layout right now. I am striving for 30k on this, have this as my big piece offering to the fandom. It will be a learning curve for me trying to write more than 15k as I hope it is an enjoyment for you to read. 
> 
> *this means it will take a while to be completed, please don’t harass me about this though cause in the meanwhile I have more of the interludes series planned.


End file.
